


don't feel good about yourself or anything

by sassastrophe (regulardudetier)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Self-Loathing, There's an inkling of Zarry if you look close, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regulardudetier/pseuds/sassastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a random au where louis and harry are together and they live together and harry has a horrible case of self-loathing and it’s really getting on louis’ nerves because he loves harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't feel good about yourself or anything

Louis walks in and the first thing he notices in the living room is the empty bottle of Jack Daniels and there's a great big audible sigh departing his lips as he picks it up and tosses it in the trash. A half empty carton of cigarettes and a pile of porcelain he's pretty sure used to be his favorite mug, and _Harry's had another one of his fits_. 

It's really unsettling, because he'd been _warned_. Niall warned him, Liam warned him, he didn't believe either of them. And then Zayn warned him, and. Well. Zayn sort of loved Harry before him, so there was that. And he figured if Zayn couldn't put up with it, maybe Louis could. He just hadn't expected what he'd be 'putting up with'. 

Harry had a severe case of self-loathing. It wasn't the petty sort of self loathing where one could look in a mirror, orally complain about their body image, and then go down a whole pack of chocolate biscuits. No, it was much worse than that. Harry couldn't do _anything_ without consequences. It came in bouts, mostly. There were the really good days, the ones where Harry could be having a perfectly fine day and maybe make one or two comments along the way, but those would mostly be forgotten. And then there were the really bad days, the ones where Harry woke up and one time Louis caught him on the roof ready to jump; those were the early stages of their relationship. He'd wake up and absolutely hate himself. And it was frustrating to him, and it was frustrating to Louis.

Because no matter how much Louis told him, reminded him how much he loved him, it never seemed to make it through. Harry never seemed to believe him, and maybe Louis didn't believe himself either. _Is that what love is? When you believe it?_ He was certain that must have been the issue. 

Harry was lying on his back facing the window in their bedroom, naked. His back was perfectly silhouetted by the sunlight pouring in, beautiful back. Louis told him multiple times how beautiful it was, how curved and bony his spine was that it made him look god-like. He had the body of a man, the mind of a child, always ever so mature. It was one of the first things Louis fell in love (believed? not really) with. "On a scale of zero to that time Zayn pissed in the courtyard of a church on a Sunday morning, how drunk are you right now?"

There was brief silence before Harry held up three fingers, and Louis let out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding in. Three was good. Three was...manageable. "Jus' sick of it, Lou." _Ah, here it was_. "Just. I want ever'one to jus'" Louis took a step towards the bed, quietly. " _go away_." 

This had been another issue with Harry that Louis picked up on a week after living with him. Whenever he'd get upset, he'd drink and then he'd wait for Louis to come home from uni or work or wherever and he'd complain.

Mostly he'd complain about people. The people he assumed were holding him back. The art professor who'd failed him because he'd used water based paints instead of water-diluted acrylics on a project and it was constituted as cheating or something to that degree. The music professor who'd told him his voice just wasn't pitched correctly and that he'd never have a future in singing. The photography professor he'd let fuck him in an empty corridor just to have a well passing grade so he could feel successful at something, only to learn that he'd grazed the tips of the failing letters. There'd been a huge lawsuit with that, and Harry was no longer permitted at the school. Well, neither was the professor.

"Matt called." Harry's voice broke the silence again, sounding much soberer and cleaner and upset. "Fired. So I guess. Yeah." 

His breath was catching and harsh and Louis realized he was _sobbing_ , albeit wrecked and choked. "Shit, Haz. I'm-" Louis cut himself off, taking the next few necessary steps before he was dipping onto the mattress and lining himself up against Harry's back, arm wrapping around his waist to pull him in tighter. He could feel Harry tense momentarily before a hand found his and fingers tangled together. 

"I just, I hate," and Louis prayed for the next words out of his mouth to not be the jumbled mess he'd heard so many times. "I just hate how I've become this blob, this useless blob that sits in bed all day and can't keep a fucking job or a fucking schedule or a fucking boyfriend. I'm sorry. I've been a shit boyfriend." 

It wasn't what Louis thought he'd say, so it was a start. So far, so good.

"And I can't even make enough with the bakery job to pay rent, but I hate doing that to you Lou. I just. I don't know what to do." 

"Haz, I. You know I don't care about that, right? Fuck, we could be living in a cardboard box and I wouldn't give a shit because I'd be with you and that's all that matters to _me_." He's shaking against Harry's side, trying to suppress it but he can't because there's too much _feeling_ and. "Harry, I love you. And I know I say it a lot but."

Harry turns, arms still wrapped together, and they're inches apart. His eyes are an impossible shade of green with red on the edges from crying, and Louis' heart breaks. 

"I just love you so much, and I want you to be happy and if it means you sit on bed watching god knows what drinking out of a bottle of fucking Belvedere with a straw, then for fucks' sake, let's get a bottle of Belvedere." 

Harry closes the gap just then, rough chapped lips pressing against Louis' own, and it's nothing short of sweet. It's perfect, in Louis' mind. There's nothing sexualized about the kiss, nothing too wrong or forced. When they part, his eyes search Harry's for a sort of knowing and he smiles. "I love you. I really do."

Harry still suffers and Louis gets frustrated but maybe it's become a bit less because for the first time in a long while, Louis actually believes himself. And he thinks Harry does too. 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback appreciated, thanks :')


End file.
